


in which rumarin is trans and literally nothing else happens

by beartopiary



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Interesting NPCs Mod, POV Second Person, trans!Rumarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 00:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1531355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beartopiary/pseuds/beartopiary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumarin and the DB attempt to clean themselves after the hygienic disaster that is the ashlands of Solstheim. extremely mild spoilers for the dragonborn dlc</p>
            </blockquote>





	in which rumarin is trans and literally nothing else happens

**Author's Note:**

> written in second person because i couldn't chose which of my DBs to use so ?? whatever insert your own

The warm air of the hearth is a welcome sensation on your face as you step into the familiar embrace of Kaldr Heim. Your eyes take in the permanence of the wood panelling and aged furniture; the house looks just as it always has. "It's good to be home," you sigh.

"Oh, it assuredly is, but it is a much better thing to be bathed," Rumarin replies from somewhere behind you. You smile at the sound of a heavy pack hitting the floor, and obligingly step aside to allow the elf to pass through to the hallway leading to the bathroom.

You readjust your own pack so that most of the weight lies on one shoulder before stooping down and hauling up Rumarin's bag onto your other. "You're welcome," you breathe, before ascending the stairs leading to the bedroom.

This trek is long and arduous, your overused muscles straining against the combined weight of the stuff you'd been carrying and, well, the stuff you'd asked Rumarin to carry. You can feel Miraak's bizarre tentacle-sword wriggling against your back through the leather and decide that this five minute journey isn't nearly enough compensation for Rumarin's perseverance on the miles-long trip back from Solstheim.

The crackling of another fire coming to life from the general direction of Rumarin accompanies the two heavy thuds that sound as you drop the twin bags on the bedroom floor. You remove your headgear, relishing in the feeling of fresh air against your ash-encrusted hair, and wearily throw yourself into your desk chair. The bed is almost painfully tempting, but your fear of staining the sheets with this inexorably ubiquitous ash stops you. Your eyes gravitate towards the mirror in the corner of the room and if you had any more energy left in you, you would probably jump at the sight.

It's no wonder everybody had avoided you and your elven companion on the boat ride home. 

You hesitantly take off what is left of your armor (the acidic black muck you'd briefly touched during your most recent trip to Apocrypha rendered everything covering your left arm useless), and although the clothing underneath is sweat-stained and smeared with dirt and grit, it is still several shades lighter than the ashen, corroded excuse for protection that you'd just removed. And your face--your poor face had been reduced to a blotchy, stained mess.

"Rumarin!" You yell, "Hurry up with that bath, ok?!"

"Friend, it's been ten minutes and all I've managed to do is turn the water black. If you want to clean yourself so badly, you may as well try rolling about in the snow outside," he shouts back. 

You sigh in annoyance. Now that you are acutely aware of how horrible you look (you can only imagine what it must smell like to those who haven't gotten accustomed to it), the dark spots covering you start to itch. This is ridiculous.

You rid yourself of the rest of your clothes (you want to toss them in the fire but you decide to spare the rest of Dawnstar from the inevitable stench) before making your way down to the bathroom, ignoring the protests of your muscles as you descend the stairs. You forego knocking and push open the door; you are greeted with the sight of Rumarin furiously scrubbing at his skin and the sound of his startled, indignant huff. You both have seen enough naked people for this instance not to warrant any special notice.

"Kynareth's tits, you could give me some warning the next time, looking the way you look," he says in an accusatory tone. "And I don't mean that as a compliment," he adds, "because you look like you were actually spawned from ash."

"Shut up and move aside, I've had enough of this infernal soot," you say, angrier at the existence of the Red Mountain than you are at him. He scoots over on the bench and hands you a towel. As you reach out your hand to accept it, you notice something weird about his face; something other than the marks left by Solstheim. Something was off... missing?

You realize almost immediately after he sends you a questioning look. "What? I know I'm extremely handsome, but most people--"

"You war paint," you cut him off. "Or whatever it is. The makeup on your face, it's not there."

"That is what tends to happen to paint when one applies soap and water," he advises, one eyebrow arched inquisitively higher than the other.

"I've just never seen you without it, is all," you mumble. "You look good," you add as an afterthought.

He barks out a dark laugh, short and brisk. "I had better look good, considering the immense amount of effort I put into this face," he says, smiling again at your questioning look. "Those rumors you hear about 'face changers?' Well, I found a certain 'artist' who claimed to be capable of modifying not only the bone structure of the face, but that of the body as well. I was born with the wrong parts, so I decided to get new ones. And, best of all, the woman did the whole thing for free, the only condition being that if I had any friends wishing to undergo the same type of change, I must direct them to her, and her alone. I think she took some sort of weird enjoyment out of the whole thing," he explained. "Did I mention she lived in a burial cave? You only ever find draugr and weirdos in those types of areas, don't you?"

You take a moment to let the new information sink in. "You mean to say you trusted a total stranger to carve up your body free of charge?! Divines above, didn't you stop to consider that maybe that might have been a bad idea?!"

"To be honest, the whole affair was ages ago; I was young and impatient. Not to say that I'm not either of those things anymore, but I was younger and more impatient than I am now," he answers, attempting to wipe away the ash on his chest with his towel and only succeeding in spreading it around more. "And, you have to admit," he continues, smirking, "she did a pretty outstanding job."

Your eyes travel appreciatively down his body, taking in his lean physique. "She most certainly did," you agree. "There aren't any scars."

"I know! Incredible, isn't it?" He stands up and turns around for you. "No marks or anything on the back, either. Well, you probably can't see through the soot, but you'll have to take my word." he says, sitting down again.

You nod in assent, eyes still lingering on his skin. "Let me help you with that," you offer.

"Be my guest," he replies, turning his back to you. You press the cloth against his back and together, you both work on removing the thin, but persistent, layer of ash that coats him.

**Author's Note:**

> the body sculptor mentioned by rumarin is indeed [Y'tharil](http://3dnpc.com/wiki/interesting-npcs/locations/the-reach/ytharil/), and yes i am thinking about writing something where the db and rumarin go to meet her but im also v lazy so
> 
> kaldr heim is a player house added to dawnstar by the lovely mod Expanded Towns and Cities. i highly recommend it!! it's my fave mod right after 3dnpc. the house in this fic is kaldr heim before the 9.2.1 update, the house was changed afterwards and i dont remember where everything is in the new version so i just used the old
> 
> someone write more rumarin fic there is never enough rumarin fic (read: there is actually none)


End file.
